


Episode 69: A Broken Family

by PitoyaPTx



Series: Clan Meso'a [69]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mandalorian, Mandalorian Clan, Mandalorian Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27048652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitoyaPTx/pseuds/PitoyaPTx
Summary: "He should be proud of them, like Beun." ~JiikThere's always a moment that changes who we are or how we see ourselves.
Series: Clan Meso'a [69]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1261364
Kudos: 1





	Episode 69: A Broken Family

The steady downpour over the past two days turned the jungle floor into a soupy mess of mud, rocks, and loose branches whose leaves seemed to cling to anything and everything that came their way. Beasts of all sizes hid in their dens or took to higher caves in order to escape; some nests were swept away in the inevitable landslides altering hillsides unprotected by tree cover. Fortifications to the Ordo outpost were a little worn by the second day, but they would hold. All the bay doors were shut or otherwise plugged by environmental shielding normally used in places with high winds or snow. The rainy season always required some updates to the weatherproofing, and this year was no different. Most outdoor training was on hold and only priority ship travel was greenlit. One shuttle already returned with loose paneling when a particularly bad tornado uprooted a tree and chucked it across the base, slamming it into the returning group. The crew untying speeders and bringing them inside the hangar had just finished up; Jiik was with them, directing the flow of traffic when yet another tree slammed into the landing zone. No one was out there, so he paid it no mind, but it would be annoying to clear once the storm passed. With the last of the personnel inside, the blast doors were sealed and most made their way to either the mess or the bunks. A few went to medical, sporting bruises or sprained joints from slipping in the deluge. Jiik touched base with air control over the com before he too left the area.  
“Are you feeding an army?” one of the cooks joked when Jiik began piling prepackaged meal kits into an empty fruit crate.  
“Feels like it,” he replied, giving them an appreciative nod as he backed out of the room.  
Between the hangar depot and the main clan complex, a skybridge lined with windows and benches made for a clear viewing of the storm. It rattled and shook with each rumble of thunder and crash of lightning. Assorted leaves or other fauna found themselves glued at odd angles to some of the windows, breaking up the dark grey sky with pops of green and purple. Jiik made his way to the center of the bridge where three figures sat watching together quietly. Nea looked up at him with a smile and patted the seat beside her. He sat and put the crate at his feet. Nea touched the shoulder of the boy in front of her. Fent glanced back at her, at Jiik, then at the crate of food.  
“Thanks,” he said softly, reaching over and pulling out one of the recycled paper containers. He nudged Beon. The Twi’lek glanced at them, but shook his head, resting his chin on his knees.  
“You need to eat,” said Nea gently, leaning forward and rubbing Beon’s shoulder.  
He shrugged.  
“Beun is back,” said Jiik, trying to keep a conversation going “I assume she’s headed to the bunks, though. She had a rough time of it out in the storm.”  
Beon nodded. Fent was rubbing the heating pouch between his fingers and sliding it under the tray’s soup bowl. Nea reached around him and pulled another meal from the crate and began rubbing its heating pouch between her fingers. Jiik frowned.  
“Beon-” he began.  
Nea shot him a warning glare. “Let him be for a moment, riduur.”  
“He’s not a child, Nea.”  
“No,” she agreed, mixing the soup with the provided spoon, “But he was their child. And don’t you use them knowing the risks as justification. What does that mean to their children?”  
Fent was mid bite when they’d started arguing. He paused, spoon still in his mouth, and looked over at Beon. His face was still pressed against his legs, but Fent could just tell that he was trembling slightly. He slid the spoon back in the plastic sleeve and set the container down just as Jiik said:  
“He should be proud of them, like Beun.”  
Nea slapped his pauldron, “Riduur, don’t you-”  
“It’s fine,” said Beon, although his voice said otherwise.  
He wiped his nose on his sleeve and straightened up, “I’m sorry,” he added with a quick glance at the Togrutas.  
“Nothing to be sorry for,” said Nea quickly, handing him the soup she’d warmed up, “We just want you to know that we’re here for you, both of you.”  
Jiik sighed, but nodded, “I owe it to your buir anyways. Saved Dvada and I more times than I can count.”  
Beon sipped the soup absently, watching a line of trees tumble down a hill into the rising floodwaters carving a path through the valley. Fent finished his soup and was pushing bits of diced tuber around the pile of steamed vegetables.  
“And Fent,” he continued, “I didn’t know your folks well, but doesn’t seem like you have anyone else.”  
Fent shook his head, the fork dropping from his fingers into the container.  
“Thanks,” he managed, and though his appetite was largely gone he ate some more from the container. Beon finished his soup and a small packet of dried fruit. He didn’t know what to say to them, to Jiik and Nea, and neither did Fent it seemed. 

Beun wasn’t in the bunks when Beon went looking for her. He wasn’t sure what she’d say, if she’d hug him or if she’d tell him to put on a brave face and keep going. She might even chastise him for feeling down, for missing them, but why would she? She must miss them, must wish they were here, right? He knew she would. More importantly, he wanted to know what she thought about Jiik and Nea adopting them. He knew she and Nat, Jiik’s daughter, were close. Beon didn’t know Dvada all that well, but word was most people thought he was some kind of hero. Always there when you needed him, but then again he was a member of the medical core. Equal parts fighter and life saver must make him a hero to the people he’s caring for, Beon thought. There was also Seru, Dvada’s son. He was six and followed his mother, Anhari, everywhere. Beon thought it was because she was pregnant, but some of the other kids said it’s because he has separation anxiety. Beon laughed along with them, but then again he always breathed a sigh of relief when Beun returned after a supply run. Ever since their parents left to fight, he’d count the days-sometimes the minutes-until their next check in. After a while, he’d count down till Beun returned with news of their safety, if there were any. Fallstara and Joha Ordo. Beon wasn’t sure what he’d do when the next report came in without their names on it. He could just not go to the com tower, he could pick up a hobby or maybe ask Beun to teach him how to fly. Sure there were flight simulators and classes he could take, but-  
“I don’t want to hear it!”  
“Don’t you at least want to see what I’ve found?”  
Beon froze outside one of the maintenance stations by the hangars. That was Beun’s voice. The other, he wasn’t sure. He quietly slid up to the desk and glass, behind which a technician normally sat but was at the moment empty. The room beyond the desk was dimly lit, but he could just see the glint off of two pairs of armor towards the back. One of them shifted, so he ducked down out of sight.  
“She made her choice,” Beun hissed, “She abandoned the Clan.”  
“She didn’t abandon us!” the second argued, their tone insistent, “I know she didn’t”  
“For a fact?”  
“I,” they hesitated.  
Beun sighed, “When are you going to accept that she took that thing and left us, probably for good?”  
There was a mirthless chuckle. “How about when you marry that di’kut who keeps following you and your brother around.”  
Beon knew the sound of fist on beskar. He also knew the sound of a person in beskar hitting the floor. Whomever Beun was talking to became well acquainted with both before she stormed out. Beon quickly scuttled away around the corner before the door set in the wall slid back, revealing his sister. Her fists were balled up at her sides, and she looked fit to swing again. He flattened himself against the wall, listening as her footsteps trailed off down the opposite hallway toward the bunks. Beon waited for the second person, but it was growing late and he wanted to talk to Beun before she went to sleep. It wasn’t his best idea, but the part of him that wasn’t terrified of her in this state really needed her advice and maybe some comforting words. Judging by her posture and the speed at which she left, he braced himself to not get any.  
He found her sitting on a chair to the side of the room when he entered. Their pod was the sixth in from the door on the left. Inside was a nondescript metal chair, a place to store some gear, and the bunks themselves. When the conflict began, Beun’s former roommate left to join the scouting parties and never came back. She moved Beon in when she got the news. He had been in a double bunk room with three other children, including Fent, but didn’t make a fuss about living with his sister again. Sure he couldn’t stay up all night, cracking jokes or watching holovids, but when she was home she’d tell him about her trips...if she was in a good mood. Some nights he’d lie awake, wondering why she wanted him back with her and why she hadn’t chosen one of her crewmates. Nat and the alor’s daughter, Maceon, were the only ones Beun ever really talked about. He’d asked once, seeing as you never ask Beun the same thing more than that, but she didn’t give him a good explanation. Or, at least, he thought as he quietly slid into the room, what he figured was the real reason.  
Beun glanced up at him as he entered. She hung her helmet on a peg beside her, then crossed her arms.  
“Have you eaten?” she asked, her tone incredulous.  
“Yes,” he replied truthfully, “Jiik and Nea brought us food.”  
“Us?”  
“Me and Fent.”  
She sighed. Beon fidgeted with his left lekku.  
“Jiik said he’d adopt us,” he added, holding his breath until she answered.  
She fixed him with her blazing orange eyes, “Yes, he told me yesterday.”  
“Oh.”  
“What did you say to him?”  
He shook his head, “I..said I’d talk to you.”  
She nodded. He waited.  
“What?”  
“Oh, um,” he stammered, “I just, wasn’t, I mean-”  
“Beon I can’t do this right now,” she said, getting up and moving past him to her bunk, “Plus I told Jiik I could take care of you myself.”  
“Oh.”  
She looked back at him. He screwed his face up into the best neutral expression he could. She sighed again. His shoulders drooped.  
“Beon, please, I can’t do this right now.”  
He nodded, but no matter how hard he tried to hold it in, the tears still came. Beon stood there, face tilted backwards and lips quivering as a steady stream cascaded down his cheeks and chin. He stifled what noise he could, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold it. Beun dragged her hands down her face.  
“Beon-”  
“I’m sorry!” he sobbed, “I’m trying!”  
“Beon-”  
“I just, I just,” he hiccuped then shook his head and thrust his palms against his face.  
“Beon, just-”  
“I’m fine,” he said, his voice an octave too high, “I’m fine.”  
“No, you’re not,” she sighed, pulling him into her arms.  
“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice muffled by both the sobbing and her breastplate.  
“Nothing to be sorry for,” she said, resting her head atop his, “When it rains, it pours, you know?”  
He hastily wiped his eyes on the heel of his hand and looked up at her, “What do you mean?”  
“Well,” she began, with a dramatic eye roll, “My ship was damaged in the storm, so I’ll either need to scrap it and get a new one, or fix it up.”  
He blinked, “But we just fixed that ship. Fent and I-”  
“And,” she continued with comical volume, “I just so happen to be going on a supply trip to Nar Shadda, and could use some extra hands. Maybe two?” She gave him a headbutt and cackled at recognition slowly spread across his face.  
“You mean, you want me to come?”  
She nodded.  
“What about Jiik?”  
She rolled her eyes again, “What about him? I can take care of you fine, it’s not like you’re a kid anymore. Plus it’s about time I taught you how to properly fly.”  
He mumbled something about flight simulators, she headbutted him again.  
“You’re coming with me from now on,” she said with finality, letting him go but holding him at arm's length, “I know he and Nea care about you, but I think I can take care of my own blood, right?”  
He gave a reluctant nod.  
“What?”  
He shrugged, “What about Fent?”  
“What about him?”  
He shrugged again. She sighed.  
“He’ll be fine,” she said sternly, letting go of him, “Jiik and Nea will whip him into shape. Maybe make a man out of him.”  
Beon frowned, but with her now sliding into her bunk, the conversation was probably over. He undid his helmet and set it on the peg by the top bunk and climbed inside. Beun turned out the lights from a panel just outside hers, then rolled over without another word.  
“Beun?”  
“Hm?”  
“Who were you talking to earlier?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“When I went looking for you, I heard you talking to someone.”  
She didn’t reply for a moment; Beon could feel his heart in his throat.  
“No one important,” she said after a while, “Now get some sleep.”  
He heard the sound of a shifted pillow and a sigh that meant “Don’t push it, Beon”, so he settled into his pillow and tried to will himself to sleep. Around the third hour, though, he couldn’t hold it in anymore.  
“Fent’s not a di’kut.”  
Beun groaned, got up from her bunk, and left the room. He sank into his pillow, a mixture of suppressed anger and the tears he’d held back twisting his face into a cross between a snarl and an intense frown. He pressed the fabric into his face and yelled until his throat hurt, at which point the tears returned…. 

...but Beun did not.


End file.
